TROUBLE

Epilogue

3 years later....

I have realised that the best step to take when trying to move forward in life is to accept that our life isn't how we imagined it growing up. We grow up believing that we will fall in love with the handsome prince or the knight in shining armour.

But the reality is no one is that perfect. You grow and learn that you are surrounded by monsters, people who make sacrifices to save their families, their loved ones. Some may think you are just risking your life, like your back is against the tip of the dagger.

I grew up believing my family were my knights to the kingdom, in a kingdom where they sat me high on their throne, but for them to be my princes they had to do some fucked up shit, it made them monster. I was born right in the middle of it.

I fell in love with another 'monster', one who treated me like a queen, taught me there was nothing in this world that compared to me. He showed me another type of love I had never been exposed to. He didn't taint me, nor corrupt me. He believed in what I was capable of.

Because I was born to be a monster too, I was made to be more, and for that I am grateful. I wouldn't want to be doing anything other than this because either way. I was in deep.

I was drowning in it all.

"Mamma! Mamma!" I could hear my baby calling for me. I was in the middle of getting ready for a day at the Vault, we had some loose ends to tie up with some clients overseas who were causing my main team some problems, they the clients have come straight to me.

I have this feeling someone is going to get hurt today, it has been far too long.

I put on my shoes leaving the master bedroom heating across the hall to my son. I open the door, he was sitting up in his small bad, he was rubbing his eyes tiredly holding his green dinosaur blanket close to him.

"Did you have a good nap mio orsa minore?" (My little bear). reach down to pick him, placing him on my hip. He lays his head on my shoulder with his brown eyes looking up at me. I smooth back his long black hair, for a 2 year old he had a shit ton of hair. I kiss his forehead leaving the room to search of my husband.

I took Miles and I a year to conceive after the miscarriage, it was risky pregnancy for me since I found out I had a hostile uterus, it meant my uterus wasn't strong enough to carry a child full term. There were a lot of concerns, I was practically on bed rest every day per Miles orders. But in the end we had the most beautiful baby boy:

Kaiser Emiliano.

I carried the boy for 9 fucking months and he came out looking like Miles with my eyes. The audacity of this kid.

Miles was in the kitchen, he was dressed up in his usual dark grey suit, his tie was tight to perfection, his tie clip not a millimetre out of line. He was sitting at the breakfast bar with a cup of coffee in hand and he was typing away on his phone.

"Daddy!!" Kaiser wiggled excitedly in my arms, wanting to be let down to run to his father. Miles catches him effortlessly while Kaiser chats away happily with him.

And he was daddy's little boy.

It gets worse and worse.

I got to fridge getting some orange juice out, getting one glass for myself and Kai's beaker. I pour the juice, giving it to him. He smiles happily mumbling a small thank you mamma.

I smile at the scene in front of me. My husband, his freshly trimmed stubble around his jaw, his hair was pushed back. he had cut it shorter over the years, he complained it always annoyed him in the mornings. About a year ago he got so fed up he cut into a buzz cut, at first we both hated it.